The DiggerDirective Part 4

Itwas close, dark, wet and particularly foul. But the sewers were a welcome relief from the war on the streetsabove.  No longer needing stealth tosurvive their violent quest, the under dwellers had all vacated their realm forthe world above.

Maxwelldidn’t care a jot for the civilians above ground, seeing the real face or Mortfor the first time in their pathetic little lives.  Their suffering made his way easier.  Even though things could get very crowded down here very quickly,the weapon was particularly suited to this environment.  The occasional cannibal pig was only so muchcrackling when it faced him down.

Maxwellhad been following this sewer for some time. He was familiar with this area, having completed literally hundreds ofBPN’s here.  As much as his life heldgreater power than the average Operative, he needed to keep a low profile.  Sewer work was all he could afford to dosince his change.  He didn’t even need agun anymore, his spines and other various augmentations removed the necessityfor them.  No pig was a match for him.

Theconstant drip and dribble sound of rainwater mixed with blood echoed throughoutthe tunnels.  The temperature would beunbearable to most, but Maxwell was special after all.  Wrought from the genetic code of Taarnish, agift from his saviour.  He owed much tothe mighty warrior, he hoped that in all this chaos his friend was safe andsurrounded by his progeny.

Anothergrunt, another flash, another trail of pork smoke filled the air.

Anotherassortment of gaggles, snorts and yells. Another wide beam.  More smokingmeat.

Maxwellwas actually getting bored.  Before thechange, he would mourn all this death. He barely cared anymore.  He hadbigger fish to fry.  He would be passingunder the suburbia wall right now.  Adull ‘thumpa thumpa’ filtered through from above.  Surely they weren’t using Mako’s?  If a fire broke out in downtown, no amount of Hammers could stopit among all this chaos.  Not with therunning battles on both sides of the wall.

Maxwellssaw the Sewer lock ahead.  A stark,rusty shield holding back the tides of shit and evil.  Maxwell approached the access panel on the wall.  It looked battered like all the others, butappeared to be functional.  Maxwellpunched in his Op code, the same one he had used for the last ten years ofsewer maintenance.  The code was passedand the iris started opening.  Themotors in the walls screeched and stopped suddenly.  Maxwell mused to himself, what if the technology had a mind ofits own.  They were giving up afteryears of loneliness.  Now that themaster of the house had left, loyal service was no longer required.

Theaperture was just large enough to squeeze through.  From beyond, Maxwells’ enhanced ears could here stifledbreath.  The breath was slow and measured,he had alerted something of his presence. Focussing his concentration, he listened to the depth and direction ofthe breath.  Large lungs, mouth at 7feet, possibly a Shaktar or Stormer. There was little light from the other side, he would not be able to seethe breather.

CLICK,BANG.  Maxwell recognised the sound oftwelve seven mil all to easily as it ricocheted down the tunnel behind him.

“Putthe Blitzer away.  I mean you no harmfriend.”

Noanswer came to him.  Clearly paranoiahad eaten into this one.  Maxwell wasthankful for his lack of emotion, it was the best defence one could have in aworld gone mad without its god.

“Iam going to come through now.  Being aoversized shite, I doubt I’ll do it quickly”

Theanswer came quickly.  The voice was deepand fringed with fear.  It held itsvowels awkwardly.  It must belong to astormer, a very freaked out stormer.

“Showyou’re face”.

Maxwellknew he could barely take 12.7 to the face and survive.  He wasn’t a Nec.  But if it were a stormer on the other side, his visage would savehim.  He could not change his route,time was short.  Maxwell decided to takethe risk.